One Perfect Moment
by Eliza2012
Summary: After the events of 3x22, Elena has one perfect moment.


The dream is so nice that I don't want to wake up. I'm floating in the lake up in Montana with Mom and Dad and Jeremy, surrounded by mountains, the water clear as crystal so that I can see right to the bottom. Warm currents pull me along as I float on my back, watching the sky. It's the last peaceful day of our vacation. I'm going back tomorrow and then there's the bonfire and Matt and school.

Suddenly, the sun's so bright, blindingly bright and warm, and I feel as if I'm floating up towards it, and it's so wonderful and I feel elated as if everything will be OK.

Everything will finally be OK.

No more sadness. No more pain. I see Mom and Dad and Gran and Gramps and Aunt Jenna, and my real dad John Gilbert, and they're holding out their hands to me, smiling. "Come with us," Mom says, "take my hand and come towards the light." And the light is love and I feel my heart healing, all my sadness drifting into nothingness like fog before the sun on a warm summer morning. I reach out to take her hand but she keeps getting farther and farther away, the gap between us expanding like the earth is opening up between us and I see fire inside the crack in the earth and I cry out and I …

I come crashing back down into darkness.

Air fills my lungs, but it does nothing to relieve the sense of suffocation that grips me. I stare up at the ceiling and everything's backwards, breathing doesn't make me feel alive and the dots in the ceiling tiles look like black stars in a white heaven. My hearing is dull, the noises sounding as if I'm under water. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, held down by some unknown burden. A sense of dread hangs over me like a dark thundercloud looming on the horizon.

_Stefan. _ He leans over me, his eyes wet, his brow furrowed.

"Where am I?" I say, barely able to hear my own voice. "Why are you crying?"

He wraps his arms around me as I lie on this hard metal table in a room that smells of formaldehyde and old blood. I slip my arms around his neck for I don't like seeing him so upset and I think something must have happened to Jeremy for him to be so sad. But then Jeremy's face pops into sight above me, and his eyes are red, filled with tears.

"Jeremy," I say, relief flooding through me. "What's wrong? What happened?" And then I remember.

"Matt!" I cry out his name and try to sit up, but my head hurts so much, the pain throbbing behind my eyes, my upper jaw aching as if someone's kicked me in the teeth and I grip my head and cradle it, my eyes pressed shut. My heart is pounding so slowly as if it will shut down any moment unless I…

Unless I what?

I don't know what. I only know that I need something. I need something to stop this horrible ache, this terrible pounding pain. I feel desperate, in need of something to relieve this sense of hunger.

"Matt's fine," Stefan says. "He's just being treated for aspirating water. Should be OK in a few days. Dr. Fell - Meredith – is looking after him. You can see him later."

I look in Stefan's eyes. All I know is that I need to cry. I feel incredibly sad, like I've lost something forever.

"What's _wrong_ with me?"

I glance around the dim room and see Damon standing in the corner, leaning against the wall. I will him to look at me but he doesn't, shaking his head. An image of him comes to my mind's eye – he's standing there, smiling at me on the road just away from the bonfire. He tells me I want a love that consumes me.

"Damon," I say to him. "I remember talking to you before…" I say, frowning. "I remember… the night of the bonfire. I," I say and shake my head, pressing the heels of my palms against my forehead, for these images keep coming to me – things that I don't remember happening, but I feel them as if they really did.

Caroline comes to me, her lips pressed thin as if she's trying not to cry.

"Elena," she says and leans down, puts her arms around me. "I'm so sorry."

She hugs me and I'm confused. All my friends are here, surrounding me, looking at me as if they can't believe what they see. Bonnie's off to the side, her own eyes red.

"I need something to drink," I say for I'm so incredibly thirsty, I feel as if my throat is going to close in on itself. "Did I hit my head when we went in the water? My teeth hurt so much…"

Stefan puts a hand over his eyes, and leaves me with Caroline, going to Damon, who wraps his arm around Stefan's head, pulls him against his chest. Damon stares at me and I see that his eyes are red as well, his cheeks wet. I can see his blue eyes, and his lashes are wet and clumped together and I know he's been crying.

Everyone's been crying.

Someone's dead.

"Alaric," I say. "Where is he?"

Caroline sits on the side of this hideous metal table and takes my hand in hers.

"Elena," she says and she brushes my hair back off my cheek. "Alaric's dead."

I frown, so confused. Esther put a spell on us linking our lives.

"If Alaric's dead, then how am I alive?"

Caroline sobs, covering her mouth. She pulls my head to hers, our foreheads touching.

"Elena," she says. "You died. You're dead."

I push her arms away, staring at her face, which is scrunched up, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"How can I be dead?" I look around at them all. "Am I a ghost?"

"No," Caroline says and grips my shoulders. "Meredith gave you some of Damon's blood when you were in the ER because you had a cerebral hemorrhage. When the truck went off the Wickery Bridge into the river, you died."

I stare at her in disbelief.

"I'm a vampire?"

"Not yet," she says, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves. "You need to drink blood to complete the process."

I know what that means. I'm in transition.

I stare at my hands, remembering my mother reaching out to me. I _was_ dead. I remember now, seeing her and Dad and Gran and Gramps and Jenna. I remember the light, the warmth, the moment when I no longer felt any sadness or pain. One perfect moment and then I was back here, not alive.

Undead.

"I was dead," I say, remembering. "I was somewhere so wonderful, where there was no sadness, and no pain."

And then I remember making Stefan take Matt first when we were under water. He tried to take me, but I wouldn't let him.

Stefan comes to me and kneels down beside the table.

"Elena, I had no idea you had Damon's blood in you. I didn't know. Forgive me."

And I realize that he's blaming himself for my death.

"You saved Matt, Stefan," I say, cupping his cheek with my hand. "You know I couldn't take it if anyone else died because of me."

He closes his eyes, leans his head against my hand. Takes it in his.

"I'm so sorry," he says, his voice breaking. "I never wanted this for you. All of this – everything, it's all my fault. I should never have come back. I should never have met you."

I smile at him, my poor Stefan, blaming himself. Of course, he's right. None of this would have happened if I'd never met him. So many people would still be alive.

I glance around at the room and suddenly, it feels too crowded, too close and I feel as if I'm suffocating, as if there's no air to breathe.

"Please, I want to be alone for a while."

"You shouldn't be alone, Elena," Stefan says, standing up, squeezing my hand. "Let us stay with you. You need to drink blood to complete the transition. We can help you through it."

I shake my head.

"I don't know if I will," I say. "I have to decide. I want to be alone and think things through."

"Elena, you have to drink blood. You can't let yourself just die," Caroline says.

"All right people. You heard her." Damon starts to wave everyone out of the room. "Give her some time. It's her death, not yours."

He doesn't look at me, doesn't say anything to me. Just complies with my wishes, ushering everyone out in front of him so that he's the last to leave.

"I met you first," I say just before he closes the door. "You made me forget."

When we're alone, he stops and stands in the doorway.

"Second biggest mistake of my existence," he says his face dark, his eyes intense.

"Your first?"

"Letting my brother convince me to become a vampire."

He starts to shut the door behind him.

"Wait," I say and he does, standing with his eyes down, one hand on the doorknob. "Would you do it again? Would you become a vampire?"

He sighs.

"I don't know, Elena," he says. "I've had a lot of good times, but the truth is that it sucks being a vampire. I've killed so many people." He shakes his head. "What sucks is that I liked it. I liked killing them and it wasn't just a vampire thing. I was so angry, so resentful, I just wanted to hurt the world. You don't know what it's like yet – this hunger. This need. Worse that any drug addiction and Stefan has it ten times worse than most. I can't show you what it's like and by the time you learn, it'll be too late."

"If you hate it so much, why don't you die?"

"Because being dead is a thousand times worse. Don't let all that nice warm light stuff fool you. It's like being trapped in a white room with no sound, no color, no music, nothing and no one. Being undead is a curse, but it's a lot more interesting than death."

"How do you know what being dead is like? You're a vampire."

"I went pretty far along the path before I came back. I didn't have much of anything waiting for me on the other side to pull me back except Stefan and Katherine. You have all these friends. You came back a lot more quickly than me, so you didn't get to see the real not-so-fun part of being dead-dead."

"Damon, I don't know what to do," I say.

He takes in a deep breath.

"Sorry, Elena. I can't help you with that. You have to decide yourself. But I won't lie to you. You need to know this. A vampire is a blood addict, period. One who can only be killed by a stake or being burnt to a crisp by the sun. Or by some freaky witch spell. Being a blood addict consumes your every waking moment of every day, for eternity."

"There's nothing good about it?"

"Oh sure, there are perks. The sex is fan-_tastic_. You think it's good now? Wait till you're a vampire. Ten times what you feel as a human. Your senses are all ten times as intense. You see ten times as many stars at night. You feel ten times as shitty the next day after a drunk. Your lust for blood is ten times what a heroin addict feels during withdrawl."

"It never gets better?"

He makes a face.

"You lean to control it – if you want to. But, even if you have it under control, you'll be surrounded by all these humans full of blood, smelling like heaven, drawing you to them like a hound on the trail of a criminal. Imagine being an alcoholic working in a brewery, tempted all day long by all this spilled beer, all these bottles filled with it, all night long, wanting it, needing it, never feeling as if you've had enough. The need never goes away. If you can live with that, then by all means, drink some blood. Transition. Learn to deny your basic nature. If that makes you sick, if you can't face that, don't."

He starts to leave again.

"I remember you returning my locket," I say. I _do_ remember. I remember him saying he loved me. That he didn't deserve me. That Stefan deserved me. He made me forget because he wanted Stefan and me to be together despite the fact he loved me. Because he loves Stefan and he loves me.

"Yeah, well, you'll start remembering everything, bit by bit. Be prepared. You might not like some of it."

He shuts the door before I can ask what he means, and then I'm alone.

I just sit on the hard metal table and stare at my hands. I don't want to cry. If I cry, I'm afraid I won't stop.

I know what my decision is. I don't want to be a vampire. But I don't want to leave Jeremy. If I died, he'd be completely alone. There'd be no one else to care for him and so it's my love for my little brother that decides it for me.

I go to the door and open it, and when I do, everyone in the other room stands and turns expectantly.

It's then, when I see their faces, when I see Jeremy, whose face is wet, his eyes red, that I start to cry.

"Jeremy," I say and hold my arms out to him. I whisper in his ear when he comes to me and hugs me. "I can't leave you. I don't want to be a vampire, but I don't want you to be alone."

He just hugs me, his tears wet against my cheek, and I know he feels so bad, so confused, so conflicted. I'm all he's got. He's the only family I'll ever have. I can't leave him.

As he holds me in his arms, I cry for my lost life – for the mother I'll never be, for the woman I'll never grow into. I'll be eighteen forever. I'll never feel a baby in my womb, never know what it's like to be a real mother, never see my kids grow up, marry and have their own kids.

Part of me, the selfish part, the part that wanted to get married and have a white picket fence life like my mother had, wishes it had been Damon there at Wickery Bridge instead of Stefan because if it had been, he would have saved me first and now I'd be mourning Matt instead of my own human life.

But it was Stefan and now I'm dead and now I'll never have the life I wanted.

Part of me wants to die and go back to that place of warmth and light, but if it's like Damon said, I don't want that either. Endless blankness? I'll take pain.

Stefan comes to me when Jeremy finally lets go of me. He puts his arms around me, holding me while I cry, and I grip on hard to him, but at the same time, I want to pound him, I want to hit him. I wish he _would_ have saved me from this fate. I wish he _could_ have been more like Damon for once in his life.

"I want to live," I say to everyone, my tears almost choking me. "Give me some blood."

Damon comes over, a bag of blood in hand and holds it out to me.

"Good old O Positive. Universal Donor," he says, a note of humor in his voice. "Just remember what I said. Once you do this, blood is going to be your best friend, your constant obsession. Isn't that right, Stefan?" He turns to Caroline. "How 'bout you, blondie? Do I speak the truth?"

"It will be," Caroline says and wipes her cheeks. "It's manageable. It depends on who you are, Elena. You're not an addictive type. You'll be strong."

I take the bag of blood and feel its weight in my hand. Already, I can smell the blood in those who are still human – on Bonnie, on Jeremy, on Meredith. I already feel the desire to be closer to them all, my lips on their skin so I can get closer to their blood.

"You should sit down when you drink," Stefan says, leading me to a couch in the small waiting room off the morgue. "If you want some of us to leave, if you want to be alone, we'll understand."

"I'll stay with you," Caroline and Bonnie both say at the same time. They turn to each other, smiling through their tears.

I nod, and look at Stefan, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "I'll stay with Caroline and Bonnie. The rest of you can leave for a while."

They leave us, and I sit with Caroline on one side of me and Bonnie on the other. We have one last hug, one last embrace, but I know I have to do this fast before I lose my nerve.

"There's nothing you can do to prevent this?" I say to Bonnie. "No magic spell you can cast that will prevent me from being a vampire?"

She shakes her head and smiles sadly, her eyes brimming. "If there was, I would have done it to save my mother. I think that only death will release you from being a vampire. Esther made that a condition of her children being immortal. Only a stake through the heart will stop you from being a vampire once you transition. But I will make you a daylight ring," she says and squeezes my hand.

"I have to drink this now," I say and open the valve in the bag of blood. By now, my body is aching so much, my head throbbing, that I know what the need feels like. I put the tube in my mouth and suck and the taste is _heaven_.

It's _real_ heaven and now I understand how Stefan feels, how Damon feels, how Caroline feels. I feel the way I felt when I was in that nice warm place – that place where there's no pain, where there's no sadness, where there's only bliss.

I drink down the entire bag of blood, gasping from the pleasure of it. I run my tongue over my teeth, and while the blood satisfies, it does nothing to sooth the ache in them. I feel as if I need to bite something, as if I need to sink my teeth into flesh and feel the warm blood of a living breathing human fill my mouth. It's almost sexual, this desire. Biting and sucking someone's blood is like two bodies joining during sex. Drinking out of a bag or a glass will never fully satisfy that desire.

I sit back and close my eyes as the wave of pleasure sweeps over me from the blood. For a few moments, at least, I feel almost perfect, warm and full.

"This is so good," I say to Caroline.

She says nothing, and when I look at her, there are fresh tears in her eyes.

"For a while," she says finally. "It feels good for a while. But then the need comes back. The trick is to never let your need get too high or else it's harder to control."

I nod, understanding. "That's where Stefan was wrong. He should have learned to control it, like Damon, instead of denying it."

Caroline shakes her head. "Stefan's really struggled. He's an addictive type by his nature. It's harder for him."

Even so soon after I've had the whole bag of blood, I start to feel as if I need more and then I know what Damon said was right. This desire will never leave me. It will only strengthen or lessen, based on how much blood I've had.

It's only after I've had blood that I start to notice small things. I see differently, as if everything's now in high definition compared with our first old television back when I was a kid. I hear more, and it's like an old phonograph compared with a digital recording. I can smell the slightest change in a substance and its concentration. I can smell Bonnie's blood and tell it's different from the O Positive in the blood bag. I feel the sensation of my cotton-polyester jeans as different from the rayon of my underwear and bra, and the brushed cotton of my camisole and the wool of my sweater. It's all so much sharper, as if my brain is now so much more sensitive.

"Everything's so much more intense," I say.

Caroline squeezes my hand. "You'll adapt to it after a while. At first, you'll be a bit overwhelmed. You should spend a few days just taking it slow and quiet."

I turn to Bonnie, and I can see the blood vessles in the whites of her eyes, I can smell her blood on her breath, and I can hear her heart beating, lub dub, lub dub, lub dub.

"Bonnie, I love you but I think you'd better go," I say. "I'm so sorry, but your blood smells really good to me and I'm already thinking of what it would feel like to bite you."

She stands up and backs away.

I cry again, covering my eyes, for I know that not even Jeremy is safe around me now.

"It's OK, Elena," Bonnie says, holding her hands out. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"Take me home," I say to Caroline. "Bonnie, wait until we're gone and then tell them I don't want to see anyone else. Caroline's going to take me home."

Caroline helps me up and together, we leave through the other exit, and go to her car. We drive to my house, my shoes squishing as I walk up the steps, the fabric and soles soaked with water from under the Wickery Bridge.


End file.
